


Even Death May Die

by lilacsigil



Category: The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, Femslash Yuletide, Power Dynamics, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 20:30:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12991950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilacsigil/pseuds/lilacsigil
Summary: Alexandra was the first person Elektra touched when she was reborn.





	Even Death May Die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lizzen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzen/gifts).



> Many thanks to within_a_dream and SA for betaing.

Alexandra was the first person she touched when she was reborn. Elektra threw herself at the blurry figure, screaming and whimpering with the shock – and Alexandra's strong hands pushed her down, held her firmly until she had vomited up the vile liquid in which she had gestated. She didn't know if that was the right term. Babies gestate inside their mothers, but she had been placed cold into a huge iron vessel, bandaged and soaked and floated into life. She knew it was all wrong, but did not have the words to say that the colours were too bright and the surfaces too hard, the voices too echoing and her limbs too heavy. Every move she made was in slow motion, and she didn't understand why the fighters she slew couldn't see it coming. 

One thing she did understand, and that was the moment when her knife drove home into a man's eye, or her elbow crushed the cartilage in a woman's throat, or when blood spilled over her skin from her latest kill. In that second she felt real, connected to this horrible world, warmed by their flesh and made solid by their last breath. When they got close to her, she killed. "Black Sky," they said, but the words meant nothing to her, even when she whispered them herself, her voice rough and unfamiliar. 

"Why are you perched barefoot on my bed?" Alexandra asked her, her smooth, low voice perfectly even. She was not afraid of Elektra; her bare arms did not produce gooseflesh at her approach, the tiny hairs stayed flat. The only flicker of emotion was a defensive glance towards a padded satin bag that sat partially open on a low table. Elektra could see one of those orange American tablet vials in it, but she had no interest in that. She wondered idly if she would ever get sick or die again. 

"Elektra," Alexandra said, retrieving her attention. "You came to me."

"Yes." Elektra reached out her hand, empty of weapons but a weapon itself, and firmly stroked a finger down Alexandra's arm. Alexandra didn't feel like the fighters she had killed; Alexandra felt like sun-warmed stone, like Elektra herself. "Are you dead?"

Alexandra did not interrupt Elektra's examination of her arm.

"Not yet, Elektra. Life does not mean the same thing for you and I as it does for other people."

"Your blood isn't blood."

"I assure you that, unfortunately, it is."

Elektra stared at her, waiting for more. Alexandra took Elektra's small, strangely smooth hand between her long, bejewelled fingers.

"Elektra, I put a great deal of effort into bringing you to life. You are my weapon."

"I am a weapon."

"Yes, my weapon. Everything is in flux right now: for a long time, there were only small pockets of – whatever you want to call it, I suppose. Magic. Craft. Powers. A hidden valley in the mountains, a tree between worlds, an oasis of panthers. Now, giants walk the streets of cities and robots claim they have souls."

"And I am reborn."

Alexandra smiled, not kindly. "We could always do that, when we chose. I dwelled in one of those magical places and learned much. The problem is that when power is scarce, it is something that can be earned and held by those with enough strength and learning. When it is spilling out across the world by chance and coincidence, chaos ensues."

Elektra didn't understand why Alexandra was telling her this, or why it was relevant to the connection between them, so she stayed silent and waited, tilting her head to listen closely. Alexandra seemed confident in the rightness of Elektra's presence, unlike everyone else. 

Alexandra sighed. "You are to be my sword, Elektra. A time of chaos is a time of opportunity. I could have used the resources that I spent bring you here to improve my own condition, but I'm so tired of always being the same. Always working in the shadows, never losing but never truly progressing." Her eyes lit up. "Remember that hidden valley I spoke of? It's not so hidden anymore. The time has come for us to strengthen ourselves for battle and return to take what has always been ours."

That wasn't much clearer, except for the idea of a battle. That sank into Elektra's chill bones as if she too was being warmed by Alexandra's sun, and she nodded briskly. "I am ready to battle."

Alexandra reached up and stroked Elektra's hair where it hung loose around her face. "Of course you are, my dear. But I am not strong yet, and neither are my allies. You must drive off our enemies until then. Our power dwells within you."

"I understand." Feeling more clarity, Elektra stepped backwards and moved towards the door, the chill already seeping back. 

"Wait," Alexandra said. "Would you like to sleep at the end of my bed? My weapon as my guardian?"

Elektra wanted to stay very much, too much to dare show it, so she simply stood still. 

"Come here." She patted the silk coverlet, and Elektra sidled closer, then lay down where Alexandra had told her. It was a luxuriously big mattress: there was plenty of space there, despite Alexandra's height. "Good girl," Alexandra told her, and lay back down herself. Her breathing evened out, apart from the occasional pained catch, and Elektra too fell asleep, wondering if she would dream again of the man who wouldn't look at her.

Her night was dreamless, and she woke to the sound of Alexandra coughing. Elektra was quickly on her feet, but Alexandra waved her away. 

She took a sip of water and caught her breath. "Unfortunately, the human body does tend to wear out if you have it for long enough. I wish I'd arrested this cycle at an age as spritely as Bakuto's, but it was not to be."

Elektra waited. Bakuto was one of the men who had watched her fight, she knew this. He had moved more warily and softly than a man his age should, and now she knew why. The others – Murakami, Sowande, Gao – had also been odd, too perfectly balanced in their movements. Perhaps they were the same as Bakuto and Alexandra. Perhaps they too needed Elektra to prepare them for battle. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to do this, but Alexandra certainly seemed ready to direct her. She had a vague feeling that she had already been directed like this, into something she didn't understand, but that was before and so meant nothing now. 

That afternoon, Elektra killed a teenage boy who had been, they said, slipping information to someone named Wing. He cried, and a tear splashed onto her arm. It felt burning hot, like his blood a moment later. Different than Alexandra. Bakuto offered her his arm as she walked from the room, and she took it just to see. His body was like Alexandra's, warm but not living. Like Elektra's. She bowed to Bakuto and gave him her sword, the gestures completely familiar to her, even though she had no idea why or when she had learned them. Many of the fighters here, dressed in red, sparred and trained on another floor of this tall building. Elektra watched them for a long time – those who saw her were frightened, but most saw nothing – and felt their movements flow through her muscles. She must have trained like these men and women did, her body strong and flexible, but she had no callouses, no bruises or missing teeth, no deformed nails from a defence gone wrong. She did have a scar, but only one, and she knew what that was from. That was her death. 

Madame Gao was standing in the opposite corner, and Elektra did not know how she hadn't seen her before. She walked carefully around the edge of the room, her cane thumping softly on the mats and her feet stepping lightly behind. She was bent with age, it was true, but there was also great strength in her, and Elektra found the contrast confusing. Why would she allow her body to become so weak when she could burn strongly? Perhaps she had no choice, Elektra thought, or perhaps she was saving that power for something else. 

"How are you, my dear? Alexandra has been keeping you all to herself."

"I spoke with Bakuto an hour ago," Elektra replied. She kept her eyes fixed on the training, but every other sense was attuned to Gao's small, menacing presence. 

"With Alexandra right behind him, yes. She is my oldest friend."

Elektra waited. She did not know why they all liked to talk so much. A long life, she supposed, full of memories. That might lead you to need to express yourself. Elektra did not have that and thus she remained silent. 

"And oldest friends, of course, can also be the greatest of enemies. Alexandra has put a great deal of our shared wealth into you, my dear. I hope that you are worth the price."

"I am her weapon."

"That's what she tells you, eh?" Gao gently patted Elektra's cheek and smiled, then hobbled out of the room, bent over and balanced like a dancer depicting great age. Elektra felt like she had said too much, and yet what did she know to give away? It was a disconcerting feeling. 

At night, she waited in Alexandra's room. Alexandra did not appear until almost midnight, but Elektra did not feel tired. 

"Ah, my guardian. Here, help me undo my dress." Alexandra's dress was gilded like armour, but soft to the touch. Elektra unzipped the dress and unbuttoned the loop that sat right on Alexandra's spine at the base of her neck. Her head was bowed forward, utterly vulnerable and utterly confident. She stepped free of the dress, hanging it up in her wardrobe, then shed her undergarments to the floor. Unselfconscious, she walked over to the bathroom door and pulled on a long silk robe. There was a painted scene on it, with cranes and a green field, which seemed vaguely familiar to Elektra, but she couldn't clearly make out the image as it shifted and flowed with the movement of the fabric. Alexandra took a seat at her bathroom mirror to remove her make-up and take a long row of pills, while Elektra stood still in the doorway, trying to take in the details of the image on the robe, trying to connect it to something. 

"Come to bed," Alexandra told her, taking Elektra's wrist and leading her there. Elektra obediently lay down across the coverlet, but she curled onto her side so she could still watch Alexandra and that elusive picture on her robe. Alexandra let the robe puddle to the ground, reaching for her nightgown, and as the robe fell a flash of memory came. It was not the painting that was familiar, but that exact shade of fuzzy-edged green. Elektra was a child, one aching arm in plaster, and she was looking out the window of a train at green rice paddies interrupted by clusters of houses or businesses. The green went on and on, and she had never seen anything so alive, despite the concrete and brick interruptions. A man sat behind her, someone she trusted. Someone who called her, who called her…

Alexandra's fingers were on Elektra's lips. "Where are you going, Elektra? You seem far away."

"Where would I be?" Elektra asked, genuinely puzzled. Reborn a blank slate, she was stuck exactly where her body was. She not displeased, though, at the slight taste of Alexandra's skin cream, a scent she had faintly caught since she crawled out of the iron vessel and Alexandra held her tight. She stuck out her tongue and dabbed the point on the pad of Alexandra's finger. 

"You are starting to wake up, aren't you?" Alexandra said. "I saw you watching me."

Her fingers were further inside Elektra's mouth, and Elektra sucked on them, not sure why she was doing that, but it felt good to have even such a small part Alexandra held between her sharp teeth, rolled around on her tongue. Alexandra pulled her hand back, slowly, and Elektra sat up with the movement, keeping Alexandra's long fingers in her mouth. Alexandra kept moving back and Elektra was soon up on her knees on the mattress, holding Alexandra's wrist. Alexandra reached forward and unbuttoned Elektra's loose shirt. 

"We'll have to find you some better clothes, if you're starting to notice such things. This is so plain."

Elektra let the shirt fall back off her shoulders. It gave her no warmth, but Alexandra seemed very interested in what she could see of Elektra's skin, and her eyes widened very slightly as the shirt fell free. Alexandra's physical features were neither attractive nor unattractive to Elektra, but she did desperately want to touch her skin, to feel that perfectly even warmth again, to feel less alone. 

Alexandra pushed Elektra backwards, letting Elektra kick her loose white pants free as she did so. She lay down on her side, Elektra on her back, so that Elektra felt Alexandra's unalive body pressed all down her side and sighed a long breath. It felt like the first time she had actually breathed fully since she woke. 

Alexandra stroked her spit-wet fingers down Elektra's body, circling her breast and then the nipple, and Elektra felt like she was being burned, Alexandra's deliberate force too much for her. But her body liked this, she was sure, and she arched up into Alexandra's touch. Alexandra's face was intent, but slightly amused. Elektra thought she should be insulted by that, but the sensation of Alexandra pinching her nipple was too much for her to think about anything. 

Looming over Elektra, Alexandra pushed the heel of her hand into Elektra's solar plexus, leaning all her weight on it so that Elektra was pushed down, her breaths short and hard, and the force of Alexandra's manipulations overwhelming. She tried to raise her arms to hit at Alexandra, maybe, or pull her closer, but as she did Alexandra pressed her finger between Elektra's legs, just once, and Elektra convulsed against the silk coverlet, helpless. A moment later, still unable to catch her breath and starting to see stars, Alexandra touched her again, pressing her hard fingers inside Elektra's body, her thumb pressing on her clitoris, and Elektra felt like she had left her body, before, terrified, collapsing back down. 

Alexandra did not stop. She put her mouth on Elektra's breast and bit delicately around the nipple, then harder; whenever Elektra tried to pull back, overwhelmed, she would twist or push inside her, or flick her thumbnail, and Elektra would be sparking with orgasm again, gasping. Once, she managed to reach up and brush Alexandra's soft, small breast, not sure if she was pushing her away or trying to touch her in return. She was surprised at the softness on her tender skin, but it lasted only a moment.

Shifting out of Elektra's reach, Alexandra laughed softly. "My body doesn't work that way anymore. One of the problems with such an extended existence, I suspect. Nothing is new, and nostalgia isn't all it's supposed to be." Then she pressed into Elektra again, and shifted her other hand to Elektra's throat. "Your body is so very young."

The pressure at her throat was the only thing that broke the spell, that or the brief deep breath as Alexandra changed her grip. Dazed and wobbly, Elektra still managed to get her legs underneath her and shove herself free from Alexandra's grasp, before sliding unceremoniously to the floor. Alexandra calmly licked her fingers, one by one. 

"Come to bed, Elektra."

Elektra managed to stagger to her feet and crawl back to Alexandra. She desperately wanted to run, run into the night and never be seen by anyone again, but at the same time running from Alexandra was impossible: what else did she have? Alexandra had brought her to life. Alexandra still brought her to life. 

"Good girl," Alexandra told her as she lay naked at the end of the bed where she had lain the night before. "My weapon."

Alexandra went swiftly to sleep, her breathing hitching quietly every now and then. Elektra lay awake, thinking about the green fields and the train, and the man behind her. 

Dressed in the clothing Alexandra had given her, Elektra hunted those she was told to hunt and killed those she was told to kill, but every death was a connection to the world. She remembered the green fields from the train, and the man who trained her to fight and lie. She remembered Greece, and Columbia University, and Matthew. Despite what Alexandra told her, that her past was gone, she remembered Elektra. 

Alexandra was dressed in a soft white robe with flecks of gold thread, this time, removing her make-up at the mirror. Elektra stood fully dressed in the centre of the bedroom, in red and black, clothing that Alexandra had picked out for her. Her clothing was tight like the bandages that had bound her in the iron vessel. Sometimes she could still smell the liquid in which they had been soaked, but right now Alexandra's perfume, subtle as it was, overwhelmed any trace of it. 

"Take off your boots," Alexandra told her. Elektra complied, slowly pulling each foot free and dropping the black boots on the pale wooden floor with a loud clatter. She kept her eyes fixed on Alexandra's face in the mirror, while Alexandra watched her just as closely. 

"And everything else."

Elektra obeyed, stripping off her tight clothing piece by piece. She only lost sight of Alexandra for a moment as she pulled her shirt over her head, and in that split-second Alexandra was no longer by the mirror but standing right in front of her. The gold threads in her robe caught the light like hundreds of knives. Reaching out to grasp Elektra's shoulders, she walked forward until Elektra was pushed backwards onto the bed. The perfume smelled almost like lilies. 

Above Elektra, Alexandra leaned forward, resting her weight on Elektra's shoulders, her arms straight, pressing her down into the mattress. She shoved one sharp knee between Elektra's legs, then slowly lowered herself down, her arms flexing, to kiss Elektra hard on the mouth. 

Caged by Alexandra's body, Elektra didn't turn her face away, instead locking eyes with Alexandra as she descended. When Alexandra ground her mouth against Elektra's, her breath cool, Elektra bit. Alexandra's blood flowed into Elektra's mouth, and Elektra licked it up. It tasted more like the liquid of the iron vessel than like blood, and Alexandra was laughing softly. 

"Fight, then, my weapon. In everything you do."

Elektra clenched her thighs around Alexandra's bony knee, taking her own pleasure now instead of being driven along by Alexandra, as Alexandra pushed herself upwards and blood ran down her chin. She licked it back into her mouth and Elektra leaned up with her mouth greedily open, but there was no more. 

Alexandra tried to push Elektra down more firmly, leaning hard on Elektra's shoulders, and the taste of the embalming liquid and the close skin contact with Alexandra led Elektra back into the floating space of amnesia for a second. There was nothing but the two of them, skin on skin, Elektra's heartbeat fast and Alexandra's slow. But Alexandra moved her knee and Elektra flashed into an orgasm, clenching her thighs around Alexandra's leg to keep it alive for longer, throwing her back into her body like an electric shock. 

With a heave of her hips, Elektra pulled Alexandra off balance and down on top of her. The gold-streaked robe floated behind her, flashing sharp darts of light as it settled down over them. Elektra sunk her teeth into the thin skin stretched over Alexandra's collarbone and her fingers dug deep into Alexandra's back, binding them together as they had been in those first moments when she was reborn. Her thigh was between Alexandra's legs, now, and she felt Alexandra begin to move against her, hesitant.

Finally, Alexandra's body was reacting, her heart stirring into a quicker beat, her skin flushing, her eyes closed. Elektra's eyes remained open, tracing the colour in Alexandra's cheeks as she ground her teeth together in Alexandra's skin. Alexandra's hands were buried in Elektra's hair, now, pulling hard as her body pulled away from her controlling spirit, caught between life and death and pain and release. 

Alexandra cried out, a word in a language that Elektra didn't know, and dragged a clump of hair free from Elektra's head. Elektra let her mouth fall open, watching blood seeping far too slowly from Alexandra's bite wound, and carefully let go of Alexandra. She did not think that Alexandra, once she found herself again, would appreciate being held still. 

Alexandra rolled to her side and sat up, after a little while. "You really are the best part of us," she said, watching Elektra through narrowed eyes. "Everything I put into you, everything I made you: the best part."

Elektra slowly licked her lips clean, and stroked her hair over the raw spot on her scalp. "A weapon," she said, thinking about Alexandra's blood and the sound she had made when Elektra hurt her. 

"Yes, my weapon." Alexandra wrapped her golden robe around herself and retreated from the room. Elektra sat in the middle of the bed and combed her fingers through her hair, brushing against the raw spot again and again with a thrilling jolt of memory, knowing she had made Alexandra do that, knowing that Alexandra was, after all, only human. And what was alive, Elektra knew, could be killed.


End file.
